


Stoplight

by dark_muse_iris



Series: Call Me Mistress [9]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst, BDSM, Blood, Blood and Injury, Body Worship, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dominance, Domme!OC, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, Flogging, Friends With Benefits, Impact Play, Japanese Rope Bondage, Oral Sex, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Prostitution, Role Reversal, Roleplay, Rope Bondage, Sex, Sex Work, Sexual Roleplay, Shibari, Smut, Sub!Hoseok, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 18:45:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_muse_iris/pseuds/dark_muse_iris
Summary: A trusted friend calls upon the Mistress to alleviate his heartache.Excerpt:Placing your hands in your lap, you inquired in as gentle a manner as possible, “So, what can I do for you?”He continued to chew, looking at the sandwich more than he could look at you. “To be honest, I don’t think you’ll do it.”“Tsk, how will you know if you don’t ask?”“It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I think you’ll be put off by it so I’ve been trying to think of an alternative thing to ask for.”





	Stoplight

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Hoseok x OC
> 
> Genre: Smut, angst
> 
> POV: 2nd Person (from the Mistress' perspective)
> 
> Warning: Sub!Hoseok, Domme!OC, BDSM, femdom, sexual themes, sex work, impact play, flogging, shibari, dom/sub roleplay, blood, penetrative sex, oral sex, body worship, role reversal, Transference!AU crossover

When the car pulled up to the address, you hoped it was a mistake. You checked the text message in your phone and peered out the window to confirm the building number.

_Yep, it_ _’s this shit hole._

The building was on the verge of condemnation with discolored walls, bars over the windows, and grease streaks left behind from the aged air conditioner units. To say the place was a dump was to acknowledge it had been livable to begin with. You weren’t quite sure of that by the looks of it. It was the sort of location your old classmates from high school would get busted making meth. The degree of squalidness made your jaw tighten in disapproval.

You were repelled by the state of affairs because this was where Hoseok asked you to meet him, at an extended-stay motel just off the highway. It was no doubt the cheapest option available to a man like him, a broken individual with few financial options left following a personal crisis.

And he was your friend. That was why you agreed to meet.

The stroll to the exterior door—number 17—was covered in loose gravel and sand.  Thankfully, you were dressed casually in a pair of jeans and sneakers. It was fair to say you made the right call in wardrobe, given the seedier area of the city you found yourself in. The large black duffel bag weighed heavily on your shoulder because you didn’t know what to bring, so you packed all the essentials you could think of, whatever you felt would help him the most.

You knocked on the door and wanted to wash your hands right after, as the surface of it was covered in dingy dust.

When he opened the door, your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. His eyes were swollen and red, indicative of extended lamentation. The sight of him in that state made you want to cry as well.

“Jesus Christ,” you murmured, unable to form a more agreeable greeting. “Hoseok….”

“Hey, Cat.”

He was wearing a loose black t-shirt, worn and faded with age, and a matching pair of cotton athletic pants. You couldn’t remember a time he had been so casually dressed. It looked like he had been sleeping in the clothes, based on the creases in the fabric.

He swallowed back a lump in his throat and forced a pained smile, then stepped aside and allowed you to enter. When he closed the door behind you, he offered to take your duffel bag and set it next to the bed. You noticed the bed sheets were gray with a high thread-count; they looked new, nothing like the bleached, itchy ones the housekeeping staff would use. The room looked lived in, more like a run-down studio apartment rather than the motel room it was.

“How long have you been staying here?” The question slipped before you could stop it.

Rubbing the back of his head, he zoned out a moment. “Two weeks? Ten days, maybe?”

“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” you scolded with a concerned tone. “You could have stayed with me.”

He frowned and shook his head. “I didn’t want to put you out like that. I haven’t been able to tell anyone since I left. You’re the only one I’ve called.”

Imagining your friend suffering alone for such a prolonged period of time made you open your arms and pull him close. He wrapped his arms around your back and sighed as you squeezed him in a way to say, “I’ve got you. I understand you.” He felt frail, weakened by the events which had torn his life apart.

“I can't believe that bitch did this to you,” you said, rubbing his back with an assuring palm stroke. “I could claw her eyes out.”

“I should have seen it coming. I was working too much.” His words were softly spoken, muffled by your shoulder.

You released him and implored with your eyes, hoping to reach him in his distressed mental state. “Don’t blame yourself for her shortcomings. When you’re unhappy with a partner, you woman up and say so. You don’t fuck someone else. She doesn’t get a pass just because you were working to provide for her ungrateful ass, you hear me?”

He winced, affected by the venom in your words. Pressing his lips together, his expression teetered between acceptance and despair.

Redirecting your efforts, you eased your voice into a controlled softness. “I’m sorry, I’m not here to talk about Yewon.” Hoseok nodded and appeared more relaxed, so you began checking on his condition. “How are you doing? Have you eaten?”

“Not really,” he admitted.

“I figured, so I brought you a sandwich.” You grinned at your prediction being correct, leaning down to unzip your bag and pull out a wrapped club sandwich from a local deli.

Hoseok looked uncomfortable by the gesture. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You called me asking for a session and you sounded like shit, no offense,” you countered. “This is what I do. So, you’re going to eat this and while you eat, we can talk about what you want. I didn’t want to have that conversation over the phone. Oh, here,” you added, grabbing a bottle from your bag, “I have a spare water.”

“I’ve been drinking water. I know how to prep.” His voice wasn’t very convincing, but you weren’t sure whether it was because he hadn’t been drinking enough or he had been crying before you arrived.

“Hoseok, I don’t want to sound like a bitch because we’re friends and I care about you,” you eased, rubbing his arm, “but if you had prepped properly, you would’ve eaten. I expected you to look sad and hurt, given what’s been going on, but you’re almost sickly.”

He wilted at your assessment of him, but was convinced enough to unwrap the sandwich and move to sit on the bed. Holding the sandwich up to his nose, he inhaled the scent first, softening his countenance, then took a bite.

“I can always count on your honesty,” he commented, cheek full of bread crust.

You joined him, taking a seat on the bed and turning to face his direction.

Placing your hands in your lap, you inquired in as gentle a manner as possible, “So, what can I do for you?”

He continued to chew, looking at the sandwich more than he could look at you. “To be honest, I don’t think you’ll do it.”

“Tsk, how will you know if you don’t ask?”

“It’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I think you’ll be put off by it so I’ve been trying to think of an alternative thing to ask for.”

“Let me be the judge of that. I’ve been doing this a long time. I doubt I’ll be shocked by whatever you request.”

Slowing his bites, he hesitated. He looked at your face and you could see he was trying to read you, to gauge whether you could be trusted with so intimate a task.

You grazed his knee and waited until you had his full attention. “How long have we known each other?”

Hoseok tilted his head, calculating the time. “About four years.”

“Do you trust me?” you asked. “I know you’re not in the best place, but I can assure you: no one will ever know I was here. This—whatever this becomes—will only be between us. You have my word.”

He rotated the sandwich, taking another bite off a fresh corner. “What will you _not_ do?”

_Good, I_ _’m getting through._

You quirked an eyebrow. “In this room?” Turning your head, you took in a quick review of the furniture, the layout, and the floor. “Scat and waterworks are out of the question with this carpet.”

“People pay you to shit on them?” Hoseok’s voice perked up as he posed the question.

A mischievous expression spread across your features. “I charge a lot for it too.”

He returned the smile, pleased with your response. His shoulders eased and he nodded, as though he were coming to an agreement with himself on how best to proceed with his request.

“How do you feel about blood?”

 _Hm, that_ _’s interesting_ , you thought, your curiosity more than piqued by his inquiry.

“You mean like vampire roleplay? Or sustaining injuries?”

“Flagellation.”

His body stiffened a bit as he said the word, suspending his movements so he could evaluate how you’d react. Luckily for him, you came prepared for practically anything.

“Oh, that’s not bad.” You waved your hand. “I have the equipment for it. And first aid. That’s standard fare for me these days.”

He looked relieved to hear it. Crumpling the sandwich paper into a tight ball, he confessed, “This morning, I was glad I worked up the courage to call you. But now that you’re here, it feels wrong to ask you to do this. How much are you charging these days?”

“We're friends, I wouldn't dream of it,” you countered. “You can just send old clients my way if they want rope work and are still in town. I still do requests like that here and there. I can split the fee with you too, if you want. I’d rather cover for you than let her have them.”

“Pretty sure she took them all,” Hoseok said, rocking his body back to lie down on the bed. He interlaced his fingers and rested his hands over his abdomen, his eyes affixed to the ceiling. “You know that feeling when you’re in subspace and you drift, where your consciousness hovers and you don’t feel whatever shit was bothering you before?”

“Sure,” you said. “That’s the goal, right? Or at least one of them.”

“That’s what I want. I want to drift again, but the only way I can is through physical pain,” Hoseok explained as he rested on the bed. It looked like he was confessing to a counselor, but you assumed that was what he needed. Whether he would go see a real one under the present circumstances was less certain. Ironically for a trained therapist, he never mentioned seeing one in the last four years, at least not to you.

“That’s why I’ve asked you here,” he clarified. “Yewon would do it before and now she’s all I think about when I want it. You’re the only person I know who would be crazy enough to say yes under these circumstances.”

“So, you want me to whip you so she wouldn’t be the last one who did,” you summarized. “Have you tried self-flagellation?”

Hoseok sat up and sighed as he recalled his past efforts in the matter. “Yes, but it’s not the same for me. I think it’s more effective if someone else is doing the punishing, if that makes sense.”

 _Punishing_. It was hard not to notice his choice of word and the connotation behind it. Was he looking to atone, hoping for a physical affliction as a way out of whatever guilt he was feeling? You suspected he blamed himself for some part of his breakup, at least when it came to him overworking leading up to that. As painful as it was to see your friend in that condition, you knew—as well as he did—that physical pain could unlock the means to heal, if carried out in a controlled and calculated way.

His words interrupted your thoughts. “Would you do this for me?”

“Of course,” you accepted, the solution as clear in your mind as his after listening to what he had to say. You did have one final item to discuss before beginning the session, however.

“Do you want full-service?”

“Wha—oh,” he laughed, the nervousness apparent by the high pitch in his voice. “I can’t ask you for that.”

He shifted as he sat on the bed and his visible discomfort humored you.

“I’m not going to pressure you, of course, but we’re both adults and I came here with the full expectation to help you, including sex, if that’s what you need to get you through. Sex is a form of therapy in my line of work,” you reminded him. “I figured you’d want to be close to someone.”

Hoseok began to chew the inside of his cheek as he deliberated. The wheels turned in his head for a few moments and you sensed tension percolating between you. You hoped he didn’t feel offended by your offer or thought you were pitying him or viewing him as a charity case. For your part, he was a friend in need. You helped people in need all the time, although your methods were less than socially acceptable. Arguably, he understood your methods more than most people. He embraced them in his own practice.

“It’s not like it’s the first time,” he murmured.

A knowing grin warmed your face. “No, and that last time was fun, if memory serves. I think I made some men cry.”

“Women too, I remember,” he added. “That was a hell of a party. It would be different with just us, though.”

“It would be whatever you wanted it to be,” you clarified. “We don’t even have to have it. A lot of clients don’t ask me for sex, but they’ll ask for other things, like cuddling.”

“Ah, I miss cuddling,” he confessed. He clenched his jaw and looked down at a spot on the mattress, zoning out for a moment. As he swallowed down the lump in his throat, his eyes started to well with tears.

You reached for his hand to comfort him. “Hey, it’s alright.”

He shook his head in refusal, sniffling. “I miss her. I hate that I miss her.”

The fact that you never liked Yewon only made this worse to behold. Hoseok was one of the kindest, most generous people you knew, and seeing him wilt like a flower devoid of sunlight made you want to pay Yewon a visit and rip her hair out.

But you couldn’t focus on your anger. Your friend needed you.

“You’re going to leave this place and you’re going to find someone more deserving of you. Do you understand?” you pressed, squeezing his hand and giving it a small shake. “You get to start over with the knowledge of the mistakes you made and you won’t make them again. You’re better off, no matter how shitty you feel right now.”

The corners of his lips perked up. “You always know what to say.”

“You’re a good man and I hate seeing you like this. She had better hope I don’t see her at any events anytime soon,” you said, standing to your feet. “Now, let’s focus on giving you what would make you feel better so you can move on.”

“Okay,” he accepted, taking a deep breath and releasing it in a sigh that sounded like preparation.

“Okay,” you echoed, trying to cheer up the tone of your voice. “You’ve eaten, had your water. You want me to flog you long and hard until you drift—what’s your safeword?”

Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we use the stoplight system? I doubt I’ll want a hard stop once I’m warmed up.”

 _This is going to be fun_ , you mused with a smile.

“Even better. So, flogging until subspace. I assume you want me to tie you up?” You hoped the lighthearted addition of his favorite activity would liven his spirits a little, or at least offer a distraction.

Hoseok’s chuckle tickled your ears. “I’m not going to run from you, but if you prefer seeing your subs powerless, by all means.”

“I’ll admit, I’m a little curious about what tying you up would be like.”

“I know what you mean,” he replied. “You’d think with all the workshops over the years, we would have gotten around to it before now.”

“I’ll try my best,” you promised. “I don’t think I’m as good a rigger as you, but I can flog with the best of them.”

He offered a warm smile. “If I had any doubts of your abilities, I wouldn’t have called.”

Your ego swelled at his words, compelling you to nod and let the excitement show on your face. Redirecting the conversation back to the task at hand, you concluded, “So, ropes, flogging, more flogging, and when we’re done, maybe sex.”

“Maybe,” he stressed, shifting on the bed. “I honestly don’t know if I’ll be up for it. I’ll probably cry on you if you get me good.”

“I expect you to. Most who ask for this level of pain do, at least with physical tears,” you explained. “But you can cry, sob, moan, talk to me in or out of character. I can adjust mid-play if you’re feeling it. I only ask that you don’t scream because we’re in a shitty motel off the highway. This place looks like a heroin den and I don’t like cops.”

Hoseok nodded his head in understanding. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Alright, then. Anything else?” you asked.

“One more thing: not really an activity, but more an approach,” he said, waving his hand in the air as if he was about to unpack something important. “I want you to treat me like one of your clients, not a friend. I need you to stay in your dominant role until its over.”

“That won’t be a problem,” you assured him. “I can play the Mistress for the session, but I’m not going to roleplay in the aftercare. I’ll need a calm-down for myself if you’re wanting me to hurt you.”

“Of course, we can care for each other. We’ll both need it by the time it’s over.”

He stood from the bed and approached you, holding his hand out. It struck you as a little off; Hoseok wasn’t normally a touchy-feely type of person unless he was working or giving a demonstration. For him to initiate physical contact in this new context so early in the evening told you a great deal. He was touch-starved, or was at least behaving that way. You wanted to hold him, but you had a job to do. You needed to get him set up as soon as possible so the healing could begin.

Taking his hand, you squeezed it to let him know it was okay to start getting closer. Your free hand pushed some loose fringe away from his forehead. His eyes closed for a moment as he enjoyed it. He appeared to be particularly sensitive to it.

“Do you like having your hair pulled?” you whispered, moving closer.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Do you want that in your aftercare with me?”

“Please, Mistress.”

Hearing your title fall from his lips gave you a low knock between your legs, not to mention a swell of power in your chest. It wouldn’t hurt to slip into your role a little sooner than you planned, so you gave in. He was in sore need of a dominant to give him a hard reset, from the looks of it.

“Do you know what that name does to me?” you asked him, stroking his hair.

“I hope it gives you the power to treat me like your prisoner.”

“You can take a lot, I bet. Can't you?” You brushed your thumb across his lower lip and smiled as his tongue teased along the tip of your finger. 

“Yes,” he answered in a low voice, “and if I say ‘green,’ keep going until I'm broken. I need to be broken and I want you to be the one to do it.”

It had been too long since a submissive spoke to you that way. Watching your friend assume a role you had never seen him in before was arousing beyond your expectations.

“Very well,” you accepted with a brush against his cheek. “Do you want me to talk? Praise you? Degrade you?”

“I degrade myself enough on my own,” he said. “Praise…I’m not used to it. That’s up to you. It won’t take me out of it, if that’s your concern.”

“I'll focus on check-ins and see what comes naturally, then.”

Hoseok nodded before pulling his shirt overhead and dropping the fabric on the floor. He bent over and began to stretch his legs. It was amusing how eager he was to begin, without you prompting or giving any instructions.

“Do you have a preference on the type of flogger?” you asked, returning to your bag.

“What do you have?” He made no effort to mask the interest in his voice.

“I have a large leather, thuddy one; a medium leather one with forked ends; and a small rubbery one that I usually use to flog the balls.”

“Ooh,” he laughed, rubbing his bare chest as he considered his options. “How fast do you flog?”

“I’ll light you up,” you assured him. “I was thinking we’d start with the sharp bites from the medium one to get you started and then move to the thuddy one once you’re warmed up.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“You want me to flog your groin area too?”

Hoseok turned the offer over in his mind a moment. “Do you have any nylon to wrap my balls with?”

“Shit,” you realized, “No, I just packed jute rope. I didn’t think you’d ask for that.”

Hoseok shifted his dick in his lounge pants. “I don’t have any on me either. It’s probably better if we don’t torture them on top of everything else.”

A cackle sounded from your chest. “Maybe next time.” You pulled out the large and medium floggers and two bundles of rope, placing the items on the bed.

Once you were satisfied with your selection of gear, you proceeded to take off your clothes, starting with your shoes, socks, and jeans. As the fabric slid down your legs, Hoseok averted his eyes.

“Shy, are we?”

“You haven’t given me permission to look at you,” he remarked.

“Most men look without permission,” you commented, kicking your pants aside.

“Most men lack self-control,” he replied, “especially in the presence of a beautiful woman.”

Smiling ear-to-ear, you were reminded why you always liked Hoseok. He had a sense of introspection that put him leagues ahead of other men you encountered in the scene. It was refreshing. You were looking forward to playing with him a great deal.

Pulling your shirt overhead, you were left with a red satin ensemble. It was one of the more modest ones in your collection, as you weren’t sure what activity he would ask for when you were planning. As his tastes and preferences when it came to sexy clothing were unknown to you, you wore what you considered to be the closest to “everyday” attire.

“You’ll have to forgive me. I didn’t bring my power shoes,” you said.

He chuckled. “I didn’t ask you here for your feet.”

“I suppose it’s better to be barefoot since I’ll be flogging you for a while.”

Hoseok continued to look away from you, but the rounded edges of his cheeks informed you he was happily anticipating it.

“You may look at me now,” you permitted. “Your choice to not look right away has given me some ideas for other clients, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, letting his eyes wander over your body. “I like the color. Red’s one of my favorites.”

“I’m glad. Although you’re one of the few who can see me like this and not get hard right away,” you commented, looking at his cotton pants. “Am I losing my edge, or do you have that much self-control?”

He grinned at your compliment. “I have self-control right now, but if you touch me dressed like that, it will change.”

Your face heated up at his words and you decided that touching him deserved to be higher in your list of activities for the evening. He asked you to treat him like a client and not a friend, and you wanted to deliver on your end of the arrangement.

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

He looked ready for the session to begin, from a bit of restlessness in his hands. It could have been from the excitement of the impending play, or the fact he already knew his body wasn’t in the correct position.

That would be easy to address.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Take your pants off. Everything off.”

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband on his pants and pulled them and his boxers down in one motion, tossing them in the heap where his shirt was.

“Since you’ve never had the privilege of being my submissive, you will be examined.”

The corners of Hoseok’s lips flickered for a moment, but he nodded his head in understanding. Examination was a common way to set the mood; it was no doubt a method he employed as a fellow dominant. You wanted to take the extra time establishing your role to the fullest so he would feel the total weight of surrendering his power for a change.

“Spread your feet shoulder-width apart and put your hands behind your head.”

You delivered the instruction for him to assume your prescribed position in a steady, seasoned tone. Though he was naked, top to bottom, he followed your directive without hesitation and widened his stance. He lifted his hands and interlaced his long fingers behind his head, taking a long breath.

No matter how seasoned one is to the scene, the act of being stripped of clothing and examined by a close eye can be unnerving. It can feel uncomfortable, unsettling. And that’s the point, especially for you with Hoseok. He was used to being in control, taking charge of the scene, and yet, he was seeking the opposite from you.

“Keep your eyes forward,” you instructed as you approached his body.

Narrowing your eyes, you took in the sight of his dark unkempt hair, likely from irregular sleep. His face maintained an air of practiced relaxation. His bare chest rose and fell in gentle breaths as his armpits remained fully on display, the hairs there partially matted from his deodorant. Each of his nipples stood to attention and you had the urge to flick one—but you resisted. You wanted to walk around him first, take in his energy, see if he would move his head to watch you. His back appeared strong and ready for the pain it would soon take on. There were no injuries or markings. The legs were healthy and lean.

When you circled around him the second time, you extended a fingertip to trace it from his elbow alongside the area underneath his arm. As you did so, he closed his eyes and goosebumps rose along his skin. You omitted the opportunity to comment on it, instead pressing your lips into a tight “o” and blowing a cool breeze against the hairs in his right armpit.

Yes, you were fucking with him just a little.

He pressed his lips together and let you continue, his nipples growing more erect as you stretched the moment second by second. Your finger swept winding curves along his torso, willing his body to tense up. Down and down you trailed your touch until your fingernails grazed the soft edges of his flaccid length. His breathing shifted considerably, making you smile, and you continued to lightly stroked the tips of your fingers over it.

“Are you going to surrender to me tonight?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered, licking his lips.

You felt him grow and harden in your hand. “Tell me, do you like pain?”

“Yes.”

“Does it get you off?”

“Yes.”

 _I have his undivided attention_ , you concluded, squeezing his now fully erect cock with an air of possession.

“You belong to me, understand?” You raised your voice, commanding him to heed your words. “I’m going to flog you until you’ve had your share of feeling expendable. And after that, you will still belong to me.”

“I understand,” he responded. “Thank you for taking care of me, Mistress.”

Tonight, the words held a different meaning than they usually would from another submissive. You felt as though you were taking in an abandoned puppy from a kill shelter and fostering it to better health and a better life. In a way, that’s exactly what you were doing. The goal of the session, in your mind, was to distract to the point of rehabilitation.

You stroked his hair and face with an affectionate palm. His expression softened against your touch.

“I’m going to take the best care of you, sweetheart,” you assured him. “I’m going to break you, but put your trust in me and I’ll take you where you want to go.”

He blinked in involuntary bats as he took in your words. “I trust you, Cat.”

You nodded your head, willfully allowing his transgression with your name to pass without a remark or a punishment. This was more than recreation for him and you understood that. If you succeeded with giving him what he needed, he would be one step closer to moving on with his life.

“Take your place at the end of the bed, on your knees.”

As he walked toward the bed, he rotated his shoulders in circular motions to warm them up. His muscles were lean, but relaxed. He looked ready to take a lot and that made you excited to oblige. His knees kissed the floor by the bed and he leaned over the edge of the mattress, stretching his arms out to reach toward the sides.

You unraveled the first rope and folded the ends on each other to find the bite in the middle. Hooking it to his thumb, you piqued his interest. The corners of his lips turned upward as he rested his face on the mattress, entranced by your choice.

“I should have blindfolded you first,” you tittered, patting his hand.

“You’re taking pity on me with this one. Is that a handcuff tie?”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Of course,” he answered.

“Are you in charge?”

His eyes darkened as he detected your tone change. “No, Mistress.”

You smiled, satisfied with his response. “You’re getting this tie so you can pull hard when I’m flogging you without mercy.”

He moistened his lower lip and watched you complete the tie without a rebuttal. You wrapped the two jute cords over his hand and wrapped them under his wrist, pulling the ends up the side of his hand to make an “x” shape. The cords passed under his hand, across the bend where his knuckles were. You let the ropes pass by his thumb, around his wrist, continuing to make another decorative “x” across the top of his hand. On the third pass, the tie looked like a crisscrossed glove.

You removed the loop from his thumb and threaded the loose ends through, making sure the meeting point of the bite was at the center of the hand, close to the base of his middle finger. Securing the tie was easy enough, as you threaded the ends over the multiple rows crossing the underside of his palm, making a large loop to pull the ends through.

The result was a large knot at the center of his hand. His fingers wiggled in anticipation to grab it, but he waited on you to complete your check. You tucked your finger beneath the rope rows wrapped around his wrist and skidded it around his skin, assuring the tie was comfortable and wouldn’t cut off his blood circulation during play.

When you were satisfied with the finished tie, you gave the command to check it.

“Close your hand and make a fist for me.”

When he grasped the large knot with his hand, you yanked on the rope with a harsh tug. The jute cord vibrated as you pulled, but the tie remained secure, the rows of rope immobile against his skin.

“I’m giving you a little wiggle room so you can lift your body up some, if you need to.”

“I appreciate it. Thank you, Mistress.”

As you began tying the second handcuff tie, Hoseok’s breathing began to slow into deep breaths. His eyes closed as he prepared his mind to venture to the place he was seeking. When you finished securing the second knot, you asked him to lift up from the bed to test whether any adjustments needed to be made.

Hoseok’s knees were spread as he anchored himself to the bed, his bare chest pressed to the mattress with his arms outstretched like wings. The ropes restricted his mobility a great deal, but it was necessary; there were several places which were unsafe for flogging, or at least strongly discouraged. You didn’t want him to writhe and accidentally take a blow to the kidneys. Explaining that sort of injury to a physician is not how anyone wants to spend their afternoon.

Retrieving a silk blindfold sash from your bag, you prepared to continue with the next phase: sensory deprivation. Hoseok looked pleased by the aesthetic alternative to a standard blindfold and he raised his head from the mattress to receive it. You wrapped the sash around his eyes and secured it with a double knot. When you passed your hands over his eyes to check for coverage, you felt his cheeks lift with a smile.

“May I have permission to speak, Mistress?”

Your cheeks matched his with amusement. “Granted.”

“I’ll replace your floggers.”

You placed a soft palm on the top of his head and stroked his hair. Given the circumstances he was in, including the motel room, you suspected he didn’t have the money to replace anything. Blood didn’t wash out of leather, but it pained you to see he was thinking about paying you back when he had yet to receive your lashings.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got plenty.” You pressed your hands against his shoulder blades and rubbed your thumbs along the muscles there. “Do you carry stress in your upper back?”

“Mhm,” he responded.

“I’ll lengthen the warm-up for you.”

He murmured a “thank you” as you walked to the side of the bed to grab the medium flogger with forked leather falls. Butterflies rustled in your belly and you weren’t sure whether it was from excitement or apprehension. Perhaps it was a bit of both. There were risks to flogging someone in Hoseok’s present mental state. If any of your clients had approached you with a request for that kind of activity, you would have advised they wait another week. Hoseok had been so devoted to Yewon and, although it was fair to say you never liked her, you hated seeing him dangling with no direction or way forward. Giving him this reprieve felt like the right thing to do, which is why you were assuming the risk by participating.

That, and it had been a while since you flogged someone. You missed it.

The leather-bound handle of the flogger felt good in your grasp, like reuniting with an old friend. Excitement stirred in your chest as you began to rotate the tool in your hand, allowing the weight of the falls to counter the weight of the handle. The falls made a light ruffling sound as they spun around and around. Your muscle memory returned as your wrist warmed up with each overhanded spin.

You stepped closer to Hoseok as the tips of the falls inched closer to their willing prey. When the forked ends made contact with his skin, he exhaled deeply like he was finally getting a much-needed break. The falls landed only on his right shoulder blade, but the effect of them was immediate, as the skin beneath the impact began to twitch.

After several spins against the upper-right portion of his back, you took a step to the left, moving the falls to lightly smack his left shoulder blade. His back muscles flexed against the change in position, but he made no remarks or complaints. You continued to focus on that position for a minute or two, then changed the swing of your wrist, alternating between flogging both sides of his upper back.

_One, two._

_One, two._

_One, two._

Each smack hit with a sharp bite from the forked ends. As you maintained your cadence, his back warmed over time to a fire brick red. Small slash marks appeared on his skin, but his flesh remained intact. You sped up your wrist as the rest of your body remained still as a statue. Hoseok started panting as the sounds of repeated slapping filled the room.

“How are we doing?” you inquired, commencing the first status check while maintaining your tormenting movements.

“Green,” he answered, out of breath. “Thank you, Mistress.”

You increased your effort, alternating between odd and even strokes on either side so he couldn’t predict the next hit. His back broke out in a sweat and he started trembling, his biceps tightening as he raised his upper body against the ropes to take more of a lashing.

If you had known he would embrace the searing sting of the falls, you would have offered to flog him years ago. Past submissives would go stiff under the flogging—they would take it like a punishment. But Hoseok’s body vibrated as if he was getting charged from a battery. He consumed the energy like an act of worship, intermittently groaning in a low rumble as he hummed a mantra to make the sting stick.

Your stomach twisted in hunger as his back grew darker and redder from the lashes. Labored breaths whistled through his teeth as you returned to flogging in wide figure eights, alternating between his shoulder blades in quick bursts.

“Aw, fffuck,” he moaned, twisting his upper body.

You had breached his pain threshold. Things were going better than you hoped, especially since he was comfortable enough to sound off his pleasure in front of you.

“Yellow?” You elongated the syllables in a simpering manner.

“ _Green_ ,” he corrected with urgency.

You ceased flogging and took a handful of his hair in your hand, making a cruel fist that made him wince as you pulled it. The ropes buckled against the force of his body tightening under your control.

“You will address me by my title when you’re my prisoner,” you warned in an icy tone.

“Yes, Mistress,” he panted, his chest heaving with each breath.

You tugged on his hair again and whispered in his ear, “Do you want more?”

“Please, Mistress.”

“Tell me how much you want it.”

He licked his lips like he was about to partake in a savory dessert. “Fuck me up, make it hurt.”

The lust in his voice summoned a low ache between your legs. It gave you purpose. You had a job to do.

You laid the medium flogger to rest and retrieved the larger one. The leather falls were longer, a little wider, but would offer a more thuddy blow with its square ends. Its size and weight would mean more work for you, but Hoseok was ready for it.

Pulling the falls back into a tight bunch, you raised the flogger behind your head—then delivered a diagonal lash against his right shoulder blade. The contact made a sharp pop and he groaned in a pleasured response.

You repeated the action, bringing down the falls for another cruel blow against his skin in the same spot. Hoseok yelped in a high pitch. He sounded hurt, but made no mention of any colors. The only subsequent noise you heard was him grunting under his breath like he still had a taste for the pain.

You switched positions, grabbing the falls over your shoulder this time to bring the tails of the flog against his left shoulder.

“Ach!” he stammered, his arms shaking the ropes.

“Take it. You will endure me,” you urged, spurring him on. You gave him three more lashes in quick succession.

Hoseok slurped, sucking in a bit of drool that must have pooled on his tongue. “Thank you, Mistress.”

The corners of your lips drew back in a pleased expression. You formed a new sequence of hits, starting with overhanded circles like you used for the warm-up.

Three on the left shoulder blade.

Three on the right.

Ten on the left.

Fifteen on the right.

Five on the left again. Hoseok moaned when you returned to it and evened the overall count. You felt the sort of satisfaction one has when they surprise someone—so you hoisted the flogger overhead and delivered the same series in heavier blows to his back.

Your forearm was swelling from the activity, so you paused the lashings a moment to check on how he was doing. After the stronger strikes, your submissive’s vulnerable form appeared exhausted. His shoulders were slumped over and he was twitching. His hands were clutching the sheets. And then, you saw it.

Hoseok had begun to bleed.

“Yellow,” you signaled. “You’re bleeding.”

“Is it running down my back yet?” Hoseok turned his head to the side so he could hear your response more clearly.

“Not yet.”

“I want to keep going,” he concluded. “Green.”

“Yellow,” you countered. “You’re hunched over more than you need to be. Let me get some pillows and prop you up better.”

He nodded, taking the opportunity to breathe normally. You set the flogger on the bed and grabbed one of his pillows. Turning your head to examine him, you saw that his torso was lacquered with sweat. He probably wouldn’t want to soak through the pillow case.

You reached out to touch his hand, then allowed your fingertips to drift up his damp arm, letting him know you were close to him.

“I have to get a towel because you’re sweating a lot.”

You grazed the tip of his jaw line with your palm. He still couldn’t see with the blindfold on, but he dove his face into your hand, affectionately pressing kisses into it. He treated your hand like it was the last one that would ever touch him.

“What have you been thinking about?” you inquired, letting him continue to worship your palm.

He chuckled, baring his teeth. “You don’t want to know.”

“Oh, sure I do,” you coaxed, dragging your thumb along his bottom lip. “I’ve been watching you moan and writhe on this bed. You think that doesn’t excite me?”

Hoseok gave a knowing smirk, slurring his words. “You wanna hit me again, I bet.”

“When you moan like that, I do.”

“Mm,” he hummed playfully. “You’re tempting me.”

You smiled, continuing to pry. “Are you going to tell me what you were thinking about? I’d love to see inside that head of yours.”

He pressed his lips together, deliberating how to proceed. “Will you quit flogging me if I tell you?”

“No. You’re getting that no matter what you say.”

“I was thinking about how I didn’t taste your pussy when we fucked at that party.”

“My pussy got eaten by someone else that night.”

“Yeah, I saw it,” he said. “But you deserved better. Let me make it up to you.”

A low thrum resumed between your legs. Now you sincerely hoped he wasn’t going to back out of the sex you offered earlier.

“You sound very confident for someone who’s tied up, bleeding, and blindfolded.”

He laughed. “Okay, so presently, I’m not in the best position. But I can smell your perfume and—” Hoseok shifted his knees like he was uncomfortable, “—I underestimated you.”

You peered between his legs to see his fully erect cock bouncing involuntarily against the edge of the mattress. It was a relief that he couldn’t see how long you looked at it.

“You’re not going to underestimate me for this last set.”

“No, Mistress.”

You placed a chaste kiss on the top of his head, then went to his bathroom to fetch a towel.

You returned to the bed, then draped the fresh towel over one of the pillows. Hoseok listened to fabric rubbing against more fabric and lifted his chest from the edge of the mattress. Tucking the protected pillow under him, you modified how his body rested. You would be able to flog him until he was spent, and he would no longer be able to arch is back and risk having the falls wrap over his shoulder.

Hoseok eased his body against the plush with a deep exhale. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, stroking his hair. “Are you ready?”

He stretched his neck from side to side and widened the spread of his knees. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Taking the large flogger in your hand again, you examined his back. Inflammation had set in, with multiple red puffy streaks. Some of them had split already, and it was unsettling to see. This sort of play, where the submissive wanted to be hurt on purpose, was not commonplace for you.

Your focus now was controlling the degree of injury. The flogger was done for and would have to be left with him to prevent any potential pathogens from his blood carrying over to other clients. You would need to return to the medium-sized one to cool him down, so that tool was also forfeit. You had first aid, which you had anticipated using. It was definitely needed now. No matter what he said about sex and making things up to you, the wounds would have to be treated first.

Most of his injuries rested higher on his shoulder blades. You were confident you could continue to flog there for a little while longer and then migrate down to a different spot. As long as his lower back was spared, you were still in the clear and keeping his vital organs from harm.

Truthfully, the biggest risk to Hoseok was psychological. You had been lashing him for a long time and if you continued, there was always a risk that the session may become traumatic for him. Continuing to use the stoplight system would help mitigate that risk, and you planned on staying with him for however long he needed after that. When it was all over, he would need water, sleep, and then food. Cuddling was a must now, especially after seeing how he reacted to the gentle touch from earlier.

All these thoughts converged in your mind and admittedly, you were stressed by them. You would need a break from this sort of play for a while. A few days’ rest away from clients sounded like a good idea.

Spinning the flog with your wrist, you took a deep breath and resumed your task, lashing his skin with overhand circles. He whimpered every few seconds, letting you know the short break had changed the nature of his skin. He was more sensitive to the pain than he had been previously, as his inflamed flesh absorbed the force of your blows.

You alternated between his shoulder blades with more figure eights, increasing the speed of your smacks.

“How are we?” you prompted, continuing to hit him.

Hoseok’s response was labored, forced through gritted teeth. “Green, I’m almost there again. Please don’t stop, Mistress.”

 _Almost there again_. His moaning mantras earlier in the session made you suspect he had already been “there,” in subspace where he could disengage with the present and truly relax, but you never asked to confirm. It was validating to hear the session had already taken him there. Despite the distress that his body was experiencing, you were determined to free his mind one last time.

Increasing the speed of your wrist, you dealt sixteen more lashes against his skin. Hoseok choked back a cry and squirmed against his restraints. You gave him ten additional blows. 

"Green, _green_ ," he urged, his voice cracking as he begged for more.

His insistence left you speechless, but you sated his pleas by giving what he wanted. You raised the flogger overhead and closed your hand around the falls, then dealt an unforgiving lash against his left shoulder blade. His back was wet from a mix of blood and copious amounts of sweat, but the moan he released from the strike made your stomach twist with the sweet allure only sadism could offer.

So, you continued, raising the flog, tightening the falls, and delivering the pain to his back. Slow strikes made him moan the loudest, while the quick ones made his body rattle against the restraints. Hoseok writhed until the pillow shifted closer to his head and whenever you struck him with extra force, he would bury his face to muffle his groans.

After an additional three minutes of flogging, his back was so red you were no longer able to determine where the lashes had hit. He was twitching with his face buried in the plush of his pillow. His shoulders were trembling, but you couldn’t hear whether or not he was upset. How was he responding? You had to know.

“Yellow,” you signaled in a calm tone, your eyes glued to the smears of blood adorning his skin. “I’m—I don’t think we should continue with the hard strikes anymore. I’m going to start the cool down and then we’ll spend some time together, okay?”

Hoseok’s body continued to shake. He didn’t respond.

_Fuck, I_ _’ve gone too far._

“Hoseok, I need to hear you, honey.” You hoped the endearing pet name would reach him.

He sniffled hard and raised his head. “Sorry, I—”

He began to sob, diving back into the pillow to emit an agonizing wail. You set the large flogger down on the ground and stepped closer to place your palm on the top of his head. His hair was sticking and hot to the touch. When he felt your comforting hand, he lifted his head again.

“I’ll be okay,” he assured in a shaky voice, continuing to cry.

You felt a prickly lump form in your throat. Stroking his hair, you swallowed it down. It was imperative that you be stronger than him at this critical moment.

“I know you will,” you replied, keeping your tone as resolute as possible. After a minute of letting him release his tears, you broached the end of the session. “Do you want a full stop here?”

He shook his head, sniffling. “No. I’d really like the cooldown. It’s my favorite.”

“Okay.”

“How bad is it?” he asked, referring to the state of his flesh. “I’ve gone numb a few times.”

You didn’t want to affect the state of his mind just yet, so you answered carefully. “Let me worry about that. I’m going back to the medium flog with the forked ends and we’ll do some nice figure eights and overhanded spins. How does that sound?” You smoothed out the blindfold sash over his eyes.

He bobbed his head gently. “It sounds nice.”

“Alright, then.”

Taking your place behind his back again, you switched to the medium flogger and gave it a few turns in your wrist. It was a relief to hold it in your hand, for all it represented: resolution, a way forward, reassurance. When it hit his skin, he whimpered from the initial greeting, but then shifted to deep exhalations.

You began with figure eights that were moderate in speed, but low in pressure. The falls sounded sharp, but they bunched softly against his back with each strike. You didn’t want to keep him tied up much longer with his back already showing signs of weakening. The tails of the flog lapped against his flesh until his breathing steadied and grew more relaxed. Then you switched your style to overhanded spins, lightly smacking his shoulder blades an even number of times on both sides.

_One, two, three, four._

_One, two, three, four._

Hoseok remained silent as the whips became lighter, slower. As you eased your hand, you moved closer. When you were as close as you could get safely, you draped the falls over his battered skin and brushed them softly over his bloodied wounds. He hummed at your gentleness, thanking you in his way as he enjoyed the final moments with the tool.

When you finished the cool down, you set the flogger on the ground and began to hum a soft melody, pulling him back to the present with the sound of your voice. You looked at his expression as you removed the pillow from underneath him and found him to be more relaxed.

_Good, he_ _’s going to be fine._

You removed the jute restraints next, maintaining the tune as you completed the task. When both restraints were free, Hoseok sat back on his heels, resting his hands on his thighs as he waited on your instructions. He appeared to be recovering quickly, although you knew that might change when it came time to treat his wounds.

The tips of your fingers raised his chin and stroked his cheek as you took the blindfold off. He began to blink his eyelids repeatedly to coax them to adjust to the change in lighting.

“Welcome back,” you said, smiling. “How do you feel?”

His face softened as he tilted his head. “That’s hard to answer.” He began to chuckle. “You know how it is.”

“I do,” you agreed. “I looked at your back and I think this would be easiest if you showered. Warm water, no soap this time. You’re not gushing and nothing looked too deep, but it’s hard to tell when it’s drying and the blood is spread everywhere.”

“Oh?” His voice perked up at your description. “Can we take a picture of it?”

His request humored you. “Sure. If I had known you were interested in a picture, I would have taken it when you were still tied up.”

“I didn’t think about it at the time,” he said. “I was hoping I’d bleed some, but you must have really got me good for it to be like that. If I go numb after a while, it’s hard to tell the extent of it.”

Grabbing your phone from your bag, you asked, “How do you want to pose?”

Hoseok shifted his legs and turned to the side, letting his back face in your direction. “Can you take a few like this?”

 _Kneeling like bait? Sure_ , you mused wickedly.

“Mhm,” you answered, holding your phone up to snap a few pictures for him from multiple angles and distances. After the fifth one, you handed him the phone so he could look at your handiwork.

His jaw dropped. “Jesus. No wonder it stings this much.”

“See why I recommended the shower?”

“Yeah. Do you have an antibiotic with you?” Hoseok stood to his feet, rubbing the soreness from his thighs.

“Yep,” you answered with a smile. “I’ve got you covered.”

“How _professional_ ,” he quipped, licking his lips. For a man who had been flogged to the point of tears, he was growing brazenly confident.

“Uh-huh,” you sassed. “You’ve shown me a full spectrum of your emotions in the last however long we’ve been here. I’m not withdrawing my offer but I’m not down with infections. Let me finish my job and get you fixed up and then maybe— _if you’re a good boy_ —we’ll see.”

Hoseok laughed, flashing a grin. “Whew, I can feel that ice in your tone.” He walked to the bathroom and turned the shower on. “Hey uh, could you stay in here with me?”

“You want me to shower with you?”

“You can if you want,” he hinted. “You already tempted me once this evening.”

Your face heated up at his words. He was such a scoundrel when he applied himself. It was a good sign the extensive flogging hadn’t hurt him as you feared. Truthfully, you were pleased he was still interested, although you felt a little selfish for it. Still, you didn’t want to drag out the shower time longer than it needed to be. The shower wasn’t large enough for whatever idea was probably brewing in his head and you weren’t the biggest fan of shower sex either.

“I don’t want to give you a stroke just yet,” you joked in a coy tone. “I’ll stay with you in the bathroom, though. You shouldn’t be by yourself right now.”

“Thanks, I’m still a bit—” he paused, struggling to find the word to describe the mental state he was in. It was common to have those communication hang-ups after a session like that.

But you were reading him loud and clear. “I know, it’s okay. Get in, get under the water and let it wind you down some. I’m not going anywhere.”

Hoseok stepped into the shower and quickly hissed, confirming the wounds were still open as you suspected.

“Careful…,” you advised, taking a seat on the toilet and crossing your legs. “Don’t scrub.”

“It hurts too much for that,” he agreed from behind the curtain. “You did a great job.”

The praise swelled inside your chest. “Thank you.”

“So how have you been, Cat?”

“Busy, busy,” you answered. “It’s that time of year, I guess. Everyone needs a firm hand.”

“Do you have any kind of referral rewards program? Coupon?” You detected the humor in his tone.

“No,” you replied, smiling. “You’re the first person to get any sort of deal from me.”

“Wow, really? I feel honored.”

Your thighs were cooling against the ceramic toilet lid as you remained in your undergarments. Trying to think of safe topics to discuss was a challenge. Most of what you knew about Hoseok revolved around his job, which he no longer had, or the relationship he just left. Neither topic was safe at the moment, so you waited patiently while listening to the sound of the shower running over his back. It sounded like he was lightly rubbing his shoulders to break any dried blood loose.

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

His question struck you from off-side and you weren’t sure how to answer it. It was complicated. What did “seeing anyone” really mean? You weren’t sure anymore.

“Not outside of work, no,” you began. “Not currently, anyway.”

 _I_ _’ve said too much_ , you chastised yourself immediately after the words came out. “Not currently” meant that you were seeing someone, as in you aren’t anymore.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His tone was calm and inviting and you had to remind yourself that he was a licensed counselor. In another life, it was his job to pull answers from a person.

You deflected as delicately as you could. “Not really. I appreciate you asking, but the wound is still fresh for me. It’s complicated.”

“I understand complicated,” he assured you. He cleared his throat and then opened the curtain, just enough to poke his head out and address you directly. “Is that why you said yes to seeing me?”

“A rebound? No.” You shook your head to stress the point. “I wouldn’t use you like that. I’d hire someone first.”

“Oooh, that’s interesting,” he remarked, retreating back to the warm water. “I never considered that you’d use a service too.”

“Why not? I don’t like emotional entanglements. It’s messy and my track record is less than stellar.”

“You sound like you need a vacation. Taking time off to recharge might be good for you.”

“You’re probably right.”

Hoseok turned the water off and pulled back the curtain. You greeted him with a fresh towel and a soft smile. He looked better, refreshed and handsome. He almost appeared hopeful.

“Thank you,” he muttered, taking the towel and patting his face. He pulled the towel over his hair to dry the damp ends with a flourish of his hands, leaving his hair scattered and messy.

“Leave your back wet and wrap the towel around your waist,” you instructed.

Taking his hand, you led him back to the bed and had him lie down and hug a pillow under his chest. You went to your bag and retrieved a pair of latex gloves, a pack of sterile gauze, and a tube of Neosporin. It wasn’t much but to be fair, you weren’t expecting that degree of activity. From the looks of his back, it would be sufficient for the night and he could check his wounds again in the morning.

He scooted toward the middle of the bed as you sat next to him, sliding the gloves on your hands.

“Thanks for washing up for me,” you eased, pressing a few fingertips against his skin to inspect the markings left behind by the falls. “Are you in a lot of pain?”

“Compared to earlier? No,” he chuckled. He turned his head to look up at your face from the side of his right eye. “You’re gifted with that wrist.”

You offered him a pleased expression as you tore open the gauze packaging. “Thanks. I don’t work the parties anymore.”

“You should. N probably misses you.”

“I have a client who expressed some interest in it recently, so I might be back for a little while,” you remarked, patting the sterile gauze against his back to dry it. “It’s too bad you won’t be there.”

“I think a fresh start is what I need right now.”

“I would agree,” you replied, and it was honest. He needed to get far enough away to reset himself after having his life uprooted at the hands of Yewon.

Opening the tube of antibiotic ointment, you prepared to address each of the open cuts and abrasions from the session. As you spread the creamy substance against his skin, he furrowed his brow and closed his eyes, trying to focus on relaxing until the discomfort of you touching his wounds subsided.

“Not as bad as I initially thought it’d be,” you commented. “I’d keep an eye on it tomorrow, but you should be okay. Do you want to leave these uncovered or do you want me to cover them?”

“Uncovered, please.”

You nodded as you removed the gloves, dropped them in the small trash bin next to the front door, and returned the ointment to your bag.

Returning to him in the bed was a welcomed delight. You had been on your feet all afternoon and looked forward to continuing the aftercare you knew would be most beneficial for both of you: cuddling.

Hoseok smiled warmly as he turned to tuck his feet under the blankets and patted the spot on the bed he had reserved for you.

“Here, hand me your towel first,” you offered, holding out your hand. He quirked an eyebrow suggestively, which made you roll your eyes back at him. “Your towels are itchy.”

“This isn’t a day spa!” he declared as he tossed it in your direction.

You laughed at his outburst and hung the towel back in his bathroom. As the fibers brushed against the metal rung on the wall, you felt the ache of longing between your legs. If you joined him in the bed, there was a high probability that things would escalate. You both had hinted as much, but you felt a little conflicted over it. He was vulnerable, fresh from a breakup that changed his life. It was an experience you knew well, and you didn’t want to hurt him by persuading him into something he didn’t want. Perhaps now that he was relaxed and outside of the play environment, he would be content with a warm body to sleep next to while he recovered. That was a safe offer for now.

“I don’t have to work again for a few days, so I can stay the night if you’ve been having nightmares,” you began, climbing into the bed to snuggle next to him.

Hoseok lifted the covers over you to welcome you into the cuddle. You missed that feeling of someone wanting you to lie next to them under the covers, and you made that apparent to him when you shuffled your legs happily under the blankets.

His face wore a relaxed expression as you scooted closer until your knees touched. You pulled one of the pillows and positioned it between you so both your heads could rest against it. As your body stilled, Hoseok reached for your hand and squeezed it. You brought his hand close to your chest and began to stroke his palm with tenderness. His eyes softened as he watched you.

“Do you have any rules or restrictions about aftercare?” he asked in a small voice, not wanting to disturb the calm between you.

“Not really. Only that it’s restorative and relaxing. Most of the time I adjust to what the client needs or wants.”

“What do _you_ want?” he clarified. “Flogging someone like what we did can take a toll on you.”

He was right. You’d likely have images of him squirming for the next few nights. You thought you went too far during part of the session. The chances of you reexamining your technique to make future adjustments were likely.

“I need to know you’re okay,” you answered truthfully. “I don’t normally go that long or that hard.” You placed his hand over to rest on the side of your waist. His thumb idly brushed over your bare skin.

He scooted closer so his arm would bend at a more comfortable angle. “I’m doing a lot better than I was. You helped me get there one last time before I leave, and that’s exactly what I needed. If I had been hurt or upset, I would’ve let you know. I told you I could take a lot.”

“I know, but damn,” you snickered. “You scared me.”

“You made the right calls,” he assured you. “And now you’re here, doing aftercare, smelling amazing, while I’m trying not to bleed on the sheets.”

Amused, you replied, “Now you’re making it weird.”

“Aw, come on, the Queen of Kinks?” he joked, raising his eyebrows in feigned surprise. “I know I’m not the weirdest thing you’ve done. What does weird even mean in our world anyway?”

“You make a fair point.”

His hand drifted along the side of your body, from the edge of your bra to the waistband of your panties. It was so little effort and normally, it would have almost no effect on you. There was something undeniable about the chemistry though. You both could feel it in the room, as you felt it the last time you had an encounter. A persistent thrum between your legs maintained its distraction.

“Do you ever wish you could go back, do part of your life over?” he inquired. The look in his eyes revealed it was a question he had been grappling with for days.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, returning his gentle touch with a warm, pressed palm to his chest. “That’s not how life goes, though.”

“I know, I know. I’ve just been thinking about timing and the what-ifs. If I could go back and skip this event or that one, I could have prevented a lot of pain.”

“Mm, it could rob you of happiness too,” you pointed out. “I was never a fan of your ex, but she gave you a beautiful outlet to help people. You healed people with your rope work. How many did you teach about safety and technique? It must have been hundreds by now.”

“Ah,” he dismissed, burying his face in the pillow.

“And you made friends,” you continued. “One of them is in this bed with you.” He returned to look at you; it seemed your words were leaving an impression on him. So, you drove home the point you wanted him to carry wherever he was heading to next.

“What I’m saying is, sometimes bad things happen, but we have to move forward with the knowledge we’ve earned from experience.”

“You’re a remarkable woman.”

His words struck you as deeply as his gaze. It was not the reply you were expecting to hear.

“I’ve fucked up a lot,” you countered. “I learn the hard way.”

He shook his head. “No, you’ve got that thing. You don’t need anyone.”

“Sure, I do. I get lonely like anyone else. This can be a lonely job, when your clients don’t really know you, just the idea of you.”

“But I know you,” he replied. “You’re not going to be alone forever, not unless that’s what you want.”

Your throat grew prickly upon considering his words. “I could say the same about you.”

Hoseok took your hand from his chest and kissed your fingers before placing your hand across his face. “Thank you for helping me.”

You brushed your fingertips over his forehead, pushing a few stray hairs away. “I’m glad you reached out.”

“I know we’re both going through some stuff,” he eased, nuzzling your hand with his nose to kiss it again, “but I’d like to make you feel as good as you made me feel—if you’ll have me for tonight.”

His offer compelled the corners of your lips to curl into a mischievous grin. Hoseok’s eyes darkened at the sight, but he waited for your response, holding your hand close to his chest.

“No marks,” you murmured. “No degradation.”

“No marks, no degrading,” he repeated. “How far may I go?”

“I have condoms in my bag,” you answered, “but no anal. I don’t have the right lube for it with me. I’m regretting that now.”

“I’m flattered you would even consider me for that,” he chuckled. “What about kissing?”

“Uh—did we not do that last time?”

He licked his lips and smirked. “I had a full mask on at the party. If you kissed someone, it wasn’t me.”

You whined, burying your face in embarrassment. He teased you, pulling your hands away from your face so he could have a laugh at how mortified you were by the mix-up. You tried to wiggle free, but when his hand returned to your waist, the ache in your core resumed. Your chest buzzed with flurries of excitement.

The sensation made you inhale deeply. Sex for free wasn’t something you typically did anymore. You were nervous, but you had every intention of following through with what you wanted. And you wanted him.

“Do you have any rules or restrictions?” you redirected. “Preferences?”

“Honestly, I just want you to let me worship you.”

His hand drifted over your hip and you nodded in agreement. You could feel the dampness pooling in your panties and you wanted to downplay it, to tell yourself he was a professional as much as you were. And that was true, but it didn’t diminish the power of his words or the way he was looking at you. You were going to unravel quickly if his skill was half as good as his enticement was. Your cheeks were searing hot from his proposition.

“I will.”

He leaned forward, pressing his palm against your lower back to pull you close as he initiated the first pleasurable brush of his lips against yours. It was slow and practiced, like the sweet, syrupy drop of honey from the tip of a spoon. His kiss let you know he had an ample amount of time and meant to spend it on you. The hand pressed to your back didn’t move. The thumb idly grazing your skin was a torment; it was too early to feel so desperate, with only his lips communicating his true intentions.

Your tongue slipped past his lips and the moment it brushed against his, he deepened the kiss and your stomach twisted with need. You were feverish. The evening’s flirtations had come to a head and now you wanted nothing more than to exhaust yourself on him.

You inched closer to throw your leg over his waist. His hand crawled over the curve of your ass and gripped your thigh. A whimper fell from your lips and he chuckled.

“I can feel your enthusiasm.”

“You’re gonna make me beg for it at this rate,” you whispered.

He cupped your sex and you ground your want hungrily against his palm. He nudged your nose and grinned.

“Mm, does it hurt, baby?”

 _Baby_. He’s enjoying this.

“You’d hurt too if you had seen me moaning all night like you were,” you answered as you dragged your nails down his torso. “I’m about to touch myself.”

He pulled your panties aside and dragged the tips of his fingers along your folds. They were stiff, seasoned with artful teases that made you lightheaded.

“Don’t take that honor from me. I’ve been thinking about tasting you all night.”

Pressing his fingertips against your clit, he gave you a quick tease of pleasure before bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking on his fingers. He groaned in approval as his tongue pulled off every taste of your slick, and the sight of it made your hips roll in search of something to grind on.

Hoseok’s eyes were blown with lust as he closed in on your neck, lapping against your pulse point. He reached behind you to unhook the clasp of your bra and drag the straps over your shoulders. You shimmied away from it, tossing the garment into the floor. When you faced him again, he grasped your left breast firmly and traced the edge of your nipple with his thumb. He never skipped on any of the details, focusing his efforts on your erogenous zones as your sight grew hazy with lust.

You tucked your hand under the blankets to wrap your palm around his cock. It was hard to the touch, turgent with unsated desire after a night of denial. It throbbed in your hand, but he refused to rock his hips as you had. Instead, he focused on you, coaxing your shoulders against the mattress as he hovered over you and latched his lips onto your right nipple. His tongue grazed the nerve endings as he sucked tenderly, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of your chest rising to meet him.

You offered his dick a squeeze and slow stroke, but he grabbed your hand and pinned it against the mattress. You tried to counter with the other hand. He anticipated the move and grabbed your hand first, pinning it along your head. You scoffed at the unfairness, on the verge of protesting it, but you swallowed your words when Hoseok resumed his teasing and grazed his teeth along your nipple, lapping the underside of your breast with his eager tongue.

His grip on your forearms remained strong to demonstrate his insistence on taking the lead and setting the pace. He looked at you with a scolding eye as if to say, “Don’t spoil it, enjoy it.” When his kisses migrated to your abdomen and he loosened the hold on your arms, you were ready to follow his plans for you.

As Hoseok closed in on your heat, he looked up at your face with a dark, knowing expression. He was waiting on you to say something, but you didn’t want to ruin a good thing when he had been such a willing participant so far. His hair was partially damp, still messy from the shower earlier, and falling carelessly over his eyes. His jaw hung loose as he blew a heated puff of breath against your panties, still damp from his earlier touches. You writhed as he blew again, holding down your thighs with a soft touch.

Inching your legs apart, he lowered his head and poked out his tongue, pressing the tip of it against the wet patch. He inhaled deeply, taking in your scent as his hands crept up your body to caress your bare skin. It was a torment, hoping and praying to whatever god would listen that he would take your panties off. You considered all the clients you had teased over the years and now that you were in their shoes, you understood the intensity of their pleas.

“Hoseok—”

“Shh…,” he whispered into your heat.

He tucked his thumbs inside the waistband of your panties and pulled the elastic away from your skin, sliding the fabric down your legs gingerly—leisurely—as though to build your want that much more. The open air of the room made you hyper aware of how wet you had become from his actions. His eyes bored into your heat as he rotated his thumbs into your flesh, massaging your legs, willing them to relax. All you could feel was the unbridled yearning for his tongue.

He spread your legs further until the sides of your thighs pressed to the mattress and then sent a long eager swipe along the center of your folds. Your legs buckled as you began to pant and he licked again, lapping his tongue with enough pressure to send electric sparks of pleasure to the parts of your body he couldn’t see. A whimper fell from your tongue and he groaned in response, pressing his face deeper between your legs and closing his eyes like he was drinking from the font of a spiritual altar.

His hold on your thighs loosened as his hands slipped over your abdomen and beneath your back, coaxing it to arch from the bed. Your knees wobbled loosely as you gripped the sheets, unable to drape your legs over the open wounds on his back. He continued his efforts, lavishing worshipful swipes of his tongue against your slit as the heat of your longing mounted higher and higher.

Hoseok wrapped his lips around your clit and lured it against his tongue with a tender suck, summoning a moan from within your lungs. Your hand searched for him, interlacing your fingers in his hair and giving it a tug as your hips rolled, begging for him to persist.

Hot puffs of air from his nostrils heated your aching body as the tip of his nose nudged your clit. His tongue dipped inside your honey well, reaching deep to brush against your walls and have another taste. Lacking any reservations, he remained attached to your heat as his arms adjusted to hook beneath your thighs and hold you tight.

“Fuck…,” you whispered, lifting your head in distress as Hoseok continued to devour you. His eyes were beady with lust, unblinking, and staring at you possessively, as if to dare you to stop him. All you could do was tuck your bottom lip between your teeth and rest your head back against the pillow, suffering your pleasure as it mounted beyond your control.

You wanted to retain some sense of self-control to keep from unraveling into a sobbing mess, but it was impossible, as Hoseok continued to guard your core with his undulating tongue and prevented your legs from moving independently. He pressed your legs down again, spreading you open until you were as exposed as possible, and flattened his tongue against you. His firm muscle rubbed your clit, over and over, as it swelled and your hips began to shudder. You would have given anything to ride his face and he knew it in that moment, as he continued to give you a knowing look.

He groaned into your folds as e made another pass with his tongue, delving over swollen petals. The vibrations were enough to make you desperate, and you seized his hair with a trembling hand.

“Make me come, make me come,” you pleaded, grinding against his face.

You grabbed your breasts and squeezed them hard as you writhed against his sheets. He enveloped your rosebud with his lips once more, suckling in pulsing pulls until your eyes rolled to a close. A strained moan threaded through your clenched teeth as Hoseok encircled your trapped flesh with his tongue and sent you spiraling.

“Ah, f-fuck!”

He moaned in adulation as you sputtered and came on his face. Darting his tongue to scoop up every drop of nectar, he left no corner neglected. You closed your eyes and hummed as your body jerked from his tongue’s insistence on collecting all the slick of your release. He wiped his lip, wearing a pleased albeit cocky expression. He looked like he solved the puzzle and was intent on using that knowledge to wreck you.

The look ignited a competitive streak within you. You were a professional who fucked for a living. Making men blow their load was a walk in the park. Hoseok had some skill, to be sure, but as you watched him wipe his chin, you wanted to break him all over again.

You dismissed his smug countenance by walking to your bag, grabbing a condom, and returning to him. As he stood to his feet, you dropped to your knees.

“Shit.”

He didn’t have time to register what you were doing before the underside of his cock met the eager graze of your tongue and you popped the tip in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the swollen flesh as you looked up at him, waiting on his eyes to meet yours. When he calmed himself enough to look at you, you crinkled your brow and batted your eyelashes like a docile doll. Ever the clever actress, you assumed the expression of a sweet ingenue who had never sucked a dick before.

“God, do you always look like that when you’re sucking dick off?” he accused.

You shook your head in the negative as you kitten-licked his frenulum, waiting on his rebuttal.

“So, you’re getting back at me. Is that it?”

You giggled like a court jester as you dropped your jaw, flattened your tongue, and eased his length in your mouth, inch by inch. Hoseok hissed and carded his fingers through his hair. When your nose pressed to his skin, he cradled your head in his hand with the softest touch. You rewarded his manners by swallowing around his length, making him groan in distress.

“Please,” he said, “don’t make me waste it when I get to fuck you again.”

You withdrew from him and smiled, amused by the fact he asked for the opposite outcome others would, if they were in his position. Unwrapping the foil wrapper in your hands, you pulled out the condom and pressed it to the end of his dick.

As you rolled the latex down his shaft, you commented, “It’s nice to know my blowjobs still have that effect on people.”

“You don’t give them anymore?” he asked, astounded.

“Not since becoming a domme full-time.” You tugged on the end of the condom to give it a bit of space.

He quirked his eyebrow. “Why was I getting one, then?” He offered his hand to help you on your feet.

You shrugged. “Payback. You deserved it.”

Hoseok pulled you close to him, wrapping his hands around your lower back. He began to kiss your neck and you draped your arms around his neck, willing to receive them.

“What else do you not do anymore, since becoming the Mistress?”

“Missionary.”

Your answer made him laugh as his breath caused goosebumps to rise along your skin.

“Is that so?” he teased. “Do you miss it?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Isn't that awful?”

“Not at all.” He took your hands from around his neck and kissed them. He must have caught on how much you liked it. It was nice to be doted on and you hadn't felt treasured that way in a long time. He was treating you like a privilege, so much so that you were prepared to give him nearly anything he wanted.

After he kissed your inner wrists, he continued, "Is that what you want? I’ll give you anything after what you’ve given me."

His willingness to please made you ache for him again. His eyes were warm and kind, indicative of a man who was every bit of a giver and would put forth his best effort. He was a man worthy of love, and though your presence in his room was meant to distract him, you wanted him to feel love from someone who cared about him, even as a friend.

"I want you to make love to me."

His throat bobbed in a solemn swallow as he nodded, understanding what you meant by the request. You wanted the distraction too, to feel the illusion of being unconditionally favored by someone else. Your work and your life left little room for that kind of devotion to take root. You wanted to be met at your level by someone who would treat you as an equal and give you what you need. And truthfully, the only person capable and willing to give that to you was the man in the same room. You didn't want to walk out the door without experiencing that fantasy, especially since you had no guarantee of seeing him again.

Hoseok took your hand and ushered you back to the edge of the bed, stroking the side of your hand with his thumb. He raised his hand to tenderly caress your cheek and jaw, moving close to kiss your lips once more. Your chest burst as he graced your lips with his, softly communicating how much you were valued. His tongue returned to greet yours and you savored the taste of each other.

His hands supported your back as you fell back on the pillow. When he climbed over you, a feeling of surety and security passed over your body. You wanted to be encased by someone who was never selfish, who had never harmed you. Hoseok hovered, supporting his weight with his arms as he dipped his head to resume kissing your neck.

"Stay the night with me," he said. "Please, Cat."

The timidity in his voice made you understand how vulnerable the position and physical contact was making him. He was feeling the weight of being alone, of knowing his bed would be empty again when you leave. It was a sadness which had accompanied you for years.

"Of course, sweetheart," you assured him, tracing your fingertips idly along the sides of his torso. "I'm not going anywhere."

He breathed a sigh of relief and pressed his forehead into your chest. You rubbed his hair as he returned to kissing you, this time in earnest thanks for your willingness to spend more time. The truth was you'd be willing to spend a few days, if that was what he needed to move on with his life.

His fingers teased the edge of your nipple as he nibbled on your lower lip. When he moved to knead your supple flesh in his hand, you felt a trickle of pleasure between your legs. Hoseok took your other nipple into his mouth, sucking on it as his fingers crawled up your inner thigh. You were burning to be touched again, whimpering as his finger drew up your wet slit teasingly.

"Mm," he hummed in approval, making your face flare up. He pressed the tip of his bulbous cockhead against the apex of your legs, easing it into your heat. He held himself still, partially inside of you, then arched his back as his hips dove into a deep, undulating roll, thrusting the full length of his shaft into your walls.

The force of the intrusion took your breath away and you welcomed the stretch with a soft moan that brought a pleasing expression to your lover's face. He sighed in ecstasy as he felt the contraction of your walls around him, and he withdrew, almost to the tip, before thrusting again. This time he groaned, leaning forward to catch your awaiting lips in a heated kiss. You felt how hungry he was for it, dragging your nails against his chest as he intensified his efforts, lowering his body flush against yours, driving his hips in deeper.

Each thrust was timed with a gradual drag that made your tongue thick with lust. The air in the room grew heady with the intoxicating exchange. Your hips rose to meet his thrusts and each meeting he drove a bit further, serving a taste of pressure against your clit. You missed that feeling, the urge to go a little more to sate that sweet spot that made it worthwhile. Your core clenched in time with him and you felt so overwhelmed by the sensations that you turned your face to the side and gripped the plush of the pillow next to your head.

“God, you feel so good,” you whined, out of breath.

“Yeah?” he panted, sweat pooling at his brow. “We should have fucked sooner.”

Hoseok was delirious with pleasure to talk with that level of confidence after the night he had. Knowing he was so fucked out on you only made you hotter and more desperate to soak his dick.

"You're spoiling me," you replied with a feverish nod, hoping to stoke his ego. "I like it when you go deep."

He groaned from behind his teeth and grabbed your thigh, hoisting your leg higher on his waist as he rolled his hips, driving his cock further into your heat. His cockhead rubbed the insatiable spot in your walls and you mewled incoherent praises and pleas for him to continue, to fill you up, to make you remember how good he was giving it to you. His jaw relaxed as his tongue edged his lip like he could taste the sex in the air. He was close; you could feel it in the precision of his thrusts, the way his fingers dug into your thigh like he was scared to let it go.

And you felt it, that sweet ascent, propelled by his efforts and your greedy hips seeking to take him in full. Your moans grew in intensity and your hands rushed to touch his arms, to cling to him so you could weather the climax that was on the verge of washing you away in endless pleasure. His eyes watched your expressions as he maintained his cadence, focusing on his breathing. He meant to finish with you and given his years of practice, you knew he was capable of it with the right words from you.

"I'm close," you rasped. "I need—uhnhn p-please..."

Hoseok released his hold on your leg and sunk his thumb in his mouth, pressing his tongue to the pad of his finger to moisten it. When he brought it down against your swollen pearl, he rubbed tight circles in time with the drags and draws of his cock plunging inside your core. He lowered his eyelids and gazed at you with an unspoken hunger that made your stomach constrict as white, hot ecstasy surged from the top of your crown, down to your curling toes.

Throwing your head back against the pillow, you released a cry so beautifully wounding that Hoseok closed his eyes, kept his thumb pressed to your clit, and increased his pace until his hips began to stutter in a sloppy rhythm. Then he gripped the crumpled sheets around you and arched his back, willing his body to go rigid with a delectable groan that sent a wave of simmering satisfaction throughout your body.

His shoulders slackened as his high subsided and he rolled to his side and snapped the soiled condom off his dick, briskly tying the end of it and tossing it off the edge of the bed. He sunk into the mattress face-down, muffling his words as his face disappeared into the pillow plush. "Fuck, I wish I could have fucked you all night." He lamented the fact, groaning over the loss of what might have been.

You laughed aloud, rubbing his lower back encouragingly. "No one could have survived what I did to you and last all night. You're human. You're allowed to have limitations."

He reached out blindly, searching for your hand. Smiling, you grabbed it to offer a reassuring squeeze. Hoseok released a long sigh and turned his head to face you.

"Are you alright?"

"My legs feel like jelly and I'm going to wobble when I get up here in a minute, but I'm good. Better than good, actually." You wished you had the means of forming better sentences, but you were too worn from your encounter.

"I can help you," he offered, gradually slinking off the side of the bed to walk around its edge. He tucked his hand beneath your back and you pouted as he tilted you upright.

You slumped over, slouching your shoulders as the exhaustion began to settle over your bones. He scooped his hand under your legs to move them toward the side of the bed, causing your feet to brush along the carpet on the floor.

You stood and walked to the bathroom, Hoseok's hand at your back to keep you steady. He was chuckling to himself watching you try to move around, and you nudged him playfully, remarking that he too looked like hell. You took turns getting cleaned up as best you could manage with the fatigue, and when you settled back into bed together, the warm assurance of cuddling again felt even better than the first time.

"I'm going to sleep good tonight, for once," Hoseok commented. "I have you to thank for that."

You rested your head on his arm, soaking in the gentle way his chest rose and fell with each breath. "I wish you didn't have to leave."

Hoseok paused as he tried to form the words to explain his perspective. "If I thought I could manage it in a healthy way, I would stay. She took everything, Cat. She's been telling my clients that I've medically retired or some shit, like I'm not fit to do the job anymore. I can't even—" he sighed "—I can't calculate how much money I've lost. But it's gone. I trusted her and it's all gone."

Hoseok's breathing grew unstable and you realized how selfish it was to say you wanted him to stay.

"I'm so sorry.” They were the only words you could force out.

His voice cracked with remorse. "I was going to ask her to marry me. I had the ring in my pocket when I walked in on her."

You throat burned as you raised your head from his arm. "Are you serious?"

"She was riding the real estate broker on the massage table and she had tied him up with new ropes I just bought," he said. "My ropes...I'm not going to be over that for a while."

"Did you tell N about this?"

"No, no one knows but you," he replied. "I can't bring myself to do it. You know how he'll react. I just need to get out of here before I drink myself into the black. Everything, every place, reminds me of her and I can't stand it."

"Can I talk to him for you?"

Hoseok tensed up at the question, so you clarified, "Hear me out, and then you can tell me no after that, if you want. I know you want to leave and as much as it pains me to see my friend go, I can't stop you. I won't stop you. But I'm not going to sit by and watch her dismantle the reputation you've built in our community. And if she's already lying to your clients, then it's only a matter of time before it gets to the rest.

"N and I go way back, _way back_ ," you continued. "He'll believe me if I tell him the truth. And if he's half as angry as I am, she'll be blacklisted from all events. She's not going to have a client list, at least from the BDSM side of the house, because N and I will make sure of it."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do, because she hurt my friend and what she did was unforgivable. She's lucky she still has a hole to breathe out of."

You took a breath to relax the rage that was stirring in your belly. That's not what your friend needed to hear. "Look, someday you might come back. Your sister still lives here. This is your home. I know it doesn't feel that way right now, but maybe you'll come back and want to take up your place again. I don't want you to come back to ashes, not when I can help you."

He sighed like he was releasing a trapped breath in his lungs. “You can tell N, but just him. I don’t need calls from everyone. I can’t handle that right now.”

“Of course. Just N, and I’ll stress that you’re sorting things out alone for a while. He’ll understand that.”

Hoseok tightened his arm around you and kissed the top of your head. "You're a good friend. I'm never going to be able to repay you for everything."

You wrapped your arm around his torso and gave it a small squeeze to make him feel assured of your words, that you meant every one of them.

"You can pay me back by going back out there, giving yourself the best shot, and living well. Living well is the best revenge."

As you and Hoseok laid in bed together, drifting closer and closer to slumber, you imparted a silent wish unto the universe, hoping the best would come to him and not delay. His lips pressed into your hair once more and he leaned his head against yours, sleepily muttering the refrain, giving you the touch of confirmation that your wish had been heard.

"Living well is the best revenge."


End file.
